<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bad Dreams. by BornToBeBeheaded</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29182236">Bad Dreams.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornToBeBeheaded/pseuds/BornToBeBeheaded'>BornToBeBeheaded</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>House of Wax (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Dreams, Comfort, Crying Reader, Cuddling, Gen, Insomnia, Mentions of Murder, Trouble Sleeping, domesticness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:22:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29182236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornToBeBeheaded/pseuds/BornToBeBeheaded</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You are now living in Ambrose after Vincent decides he wants to keep you around. Thing if thoughts of your old life are lingering and you have trouble sleeping and nightmares. Emotions and tirdness come to a head one afternoon with Vincent around.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Vincent Sinclair &amp; You, Vincent Sinclair/Reader, Vincent Sinclair/You, vincent sinclair &amp; reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bad Dreams.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>HEY! So the 300 follower raffle was so much fun, this is what the second place winner wanted, something soft and comforting with Vin. Hope you all enjoy it! Deff different from my normal fair. Enjoy it tho! As per usual feedback, ideas, suggestions and requests are all welcome, leave a comment here or shoot an ask to my tumblr, bisexual-horror-fan, thanks so much for reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You never had an easy time sleeping.</p><p>For the longest time you slept fitfully and poorly, whenever you did manage to sleep you were plagued by nightmares. </p><p>Was there ever a time in your life when you didn’t have nightmares? You couldn’t remember honestly. Perpetually tired is what you were but eventually you got used to it. </p><p>What those nightmares were about varied greatly. Some nights they were about old things that had happened to you, based on awful memories, others were from movies or seemingly from nowhere at all. You had terrible ones sometimes that left your chest feeling hollow as if you had been scooped out, felt empty, those ones would make you cry when you woke.</p><p>Tangled in your sheets, tears wetting your face and your pillow, hand fisted in your shirt, quietly sobbing through the hurt and the fear and the terribleness. You’d get up and try to make it through your days and make them better than when you were asleep, and sometimes you would succeed and other times you wouldn’t.</p><p>Most nights you would stay up as late as you could before passing out, not wanting to lie in bed tossing and turning for hours and for sure not wanting anymore bad dreams. </p><p>That was your life. </p><p>It sucked but hey it was yours.</p><p>But then things took a turn. </p><p>A vacation, a broken down car, a trip to a nearby small as fuck town to fix it and then you found yourself entangled with those brothers. </p><p>Vincent took a liking to you. I mean could you blame him? Just look at you, totally his type, he felt a near instant connection with you, so of course you got to stay. </p><p>You’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy to stick around. Obviously upsetting to lose your few friends that had stumbled into Ambrose with you but there wasn’t anything holding you back once they were disposed of. Nothing to cling to in your old life that was worth any note. </p><p>It took a bit of time for you to earn their trust and show them that you weren’t about to run at the first opportunity that presented itself. </p><p>Where were you going to go? Back home? As if. And how would you get away? Stealing one of their trucks? Because lord knows you can’t make it on foot very far and if you did make some escape attempt and were caught? Well then there is no way you would be left alive again, regardless of Vincent’s feelings for you. It would probably change his feelings too, he wouldn’t tolerate such a betrayal of trust. </p><p>You would never do that though.</p><p>Would never want to hurt him in such a cruel fashion. </p><p>I mean what did it say about you that you fit in here so easily and quickly, not like it mattered. This was your life now, you helped out with whatever they needed, cooking, cleaning, helping with maintenance but one of your favorite things was the time you got to spend with Vincent. </p><p>While it was thanks to him that you were still alive and allowed to stay here to assist in their goals he hadn’t spent a lot of one on one time with you. </p><p>You remembered the day where that changed absurdly well. You woke up in the usual fashion, tired and terrified from the previous night's bad dreams. You think you might have only got about three hours of sleep total, but you got up and got to work like usual. Luckily for you when you really got going you would feel more awake and be able to function okay for the most part. </p><p>The day started with some basic cleaning and the usual breakfast making, you were never in the mood to eat much in the mornings, usually busying yourself with other things, trying to rid your mind of last night's woes. Downing coffee and toast in between wiping down counters and sweeping and scrubbing, you never paid much attention to them in the morning, they didn’t eat together, you’d cook and leave food out for them to take it, coming and going as they pleased. You didn’t mind your role at all, it was such a good and well needed distraction, you liked feeling helpful and keeping busy. </p><p>You thought they had all come in and gone already, again you never paid them much mind in the morning because they did the same, you were about to clear the plates breakfast had been on and that would be the kitchen done and taken care of. You glanced to the table, one piece of toast left, fuck it, why let it go to waste?</p><p>You were still distracted, broom in one hand you reached out and went to snatch up the remaining toast only to instead be met with something that made you jump, another hand, your head whipped around and you looked up to see Vincent there, a little taken aback himself. He could be very quiet when he wanted to be and you hadn’t heard him come in. You pulled your hand back with a quiet,</p><p>“Sorry! Thought you all had eaten!”</p><p>You gestured to the plate with the hand that wasn’t still gripping the broom, saying as you did,</p><p>“Go ahead. It’s all yours.”</p><p>He gave a small nod that you were sure meant thank you and he took what you offered, a mug in his other hand he gave a small wave with the piece of toast and headed off. </p><p>You had the lingering thought that he had nice hands. </p><p>You had never touched them before. </p><p>A shake of your head and back to work you went. </p><p>Some work done outside, trying to work on making the front yard a bit more presentable, something they didn’t ask you to do or seemed to care about but something you wanted to do, gardening wasn’t something you did much before but you found solace and peace in it now. </p><p>You had lost track of time a little bit. Sitting up on your knees you looked up at the sky, sun was high, judging by the heat too it was nearly noon, the very little amount of breakfast you had combined with all the physical exertion today and the usual lack of sleep was catching up to you. </p><p>Lunch was needed. </p><p>You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, smearing dirt in the process as you attempted to rid yourself of some of the excess sweat. You got up and brushed some of the excess dirt from your knees as well and headed inside. </p><p>After a thorough hand washing you made lemonade and sandwiches. Then you set to the usual rounds of dropping them off. Bo was busy and blasting music and even if he wasn’t you didn’t count on a thank you from him, Lester was much, much more thankful, you had a light conversation with him as you always did, you tried not to watch as he ate with his unwashed hands and soon you were coming down the stairs to bring Vincent his share. </p><p>He, much like you, could get so caught up in what he was doing that he would forget what was around him, or rather, in this case, who, was around him. </p><p>There were no wax sculptures to be made as of right now. Been a bit since anyone new had come through town, so he was painting instead. You were behind him, able to see what he was working on, you watched him drag the brush along the canvas, captivated as you watched him create. </p><p>You watched for longer than you should have to be honest. It was only when the glass of sweating iced lemonade in your hand was starting to make your fingers feel a little numb that you were pulled out of it. </p><p>No other way to do it you cleared your throat and got his attention, you gave a weak smile and said,</p><p>“Hey! Uh lunch time.”</p><p>You almost said the end  like a question as you held out the glass and the plate, taking a step forward, he gestured with a nod to the open space on the work bench next to him and you came over, placing them down. </p><p>Then you said that thing that really started up everything between the two of you proper.</p><p>“I like the painting.”</p><p>A pause.</p><p>Fuck it, what did you have to lose?</p><p>“Mind if I have lunch with you?”</p><p>A tentative nod from him and you got your own lunch and came back. The afternoon was spent together, it was nice, you loved just being with him, watching, he was content to let you talk about whatever, happy to listen. And so you talked, about whatever struck you, about things from your previous life and things you liked and just so many things. It was a good day and from then on more time was spent together too. </p><p>And on life went. </p><p>Nightmares, barely sleeping, days spent busy, cooking, working, cleaning and now getting to spend time with Vincent. </p><p>You had even managed to pull him out of the basement on occasion as well. </p><p>Today was just such an occasion.</p><p>This past week has been truly awful, one of the worst for you in terms of sleep, and to make matters worse you continued to push yourself, working yourself to the bone as per usual. The yard looked great! </p><p>You did not. </p><p>Standing at the counter, working on making lunch, Vincent had actually made a special request for once and you of course wanted to oblige because he never asked for much. </p><p>You were having the damndest time just keeping your eyes open. </p><p>Your grip on the knife was loosening, eyes drooping, trying to focus on cutting the cucumber in front of you. A deep breath, a shake of your head, a soft, </p><p>“C’mon-”</p><p>Whispered to yourself, you tighten your grip again and try to re-focus, you felt so warm, it was a hot afternoon, the heat was so comforting and reassuring. The fight to not fall asleep was one you were losing. </p><p>Almost swaying on the spot, a yawn, hand with your knife came up, an attempt to stifle it. </p><p>A small stamp of your foot with a curse and you managed to push through. With everything prepped you started assembling the sandwiches, slowly, and then it finally became too much.</p><p>You had been spreading butter on bread and your eyes closed for just a second and then-</p><p>You were asleep.</p><p>Good thing for you Vincent was so close. </p><p>He noticed the second you started to tip back and he caught you easily. </p><p>He was so strong that carrying you was no problem. </p><p>You hadn’t told him or the others that you had such trouble sleeping, that you were exhausted constantly, you didn’t really share that side of what you had going on, even though you had been growing closer with Vincent. </p><p>You were just so fucking beat that you hadn’t even woekn up when he caught you like that, only stirring a little. He wanted to keep an eye on you but he knew you needed some sleep quite obviously, it could be hours so he figured bringing you down to the workshop would be best, he could work while you slept. </p><p>He carried you down carefully and laid you out on the mattress he kept down there. He’d been admiring you lately. More and more, he loved what you had to say and how much more time you were spending with him, how open you were becoming, how close you were and how much more comfortable you were. </p><p>You looked so tired before and now in his space you looked so peaceful. He left you after only watching you for a moment more. Retreating to his workbench and continuing work on with what he had been working on before abandoning it to help you with lunch.</p><p>Shit that was right, lunch.</p><p>He looked over his shoulder to you. </p><p>You would be fine for a few minutes while he finished that up. You worked so hard for them, he could surely do that little bit, take that off your mind, let you rest. Plus if he knew Bo, and he did, he;d be pissed and wondering where lunch would be if he was left to wait too long.</p><p>He got up and gave one last look to you before ascending the stairs to go finish lunch.</p><p>You had needed the sleep so fucking badly. </p><p>So many nights you had wanted the sleep as well but it simply wouldn’t come. Lying awake, painfully aware that if you gave in that the nightmares would plague you once more. But even now, with how desperately it was needed, the bad dreams did not leave you alone. </p><p>The details were hazy. </p><p>You recall the feeling of being chased, not even sure by what but by something terrible. It was a recurring dream, one that still got to you in such a hard to define way, the feeling of being pursued was not one that you enjoyed. </p><p>Running in dreams felt so odd, the feeling of trying to get away, running, attempting to get away rather, feeling like your limbs were almost in molasses, sticky, nigh immobile. Whatever it was behind you, the sounds it made were awful, the horrible, sicking, echoey laughter too, mocking you. </p><p>You felt safest with him as of late.</p><p>You called out for him, struggling in your sleep and also on the mattress, that name passing through your lips, you’d gotten so used to saying that name, saying it alone was a mild comfort. Too bad he wasn’t there right now. You still called, weak chant of his name in your fitful attempt at rest.</p><p>“Vin-.Vincent-” </p><p>Over and over, a prayer, beseeching for help falling on deaf ears since you were alone. Still asleep for now.</p><p>Twists and turns, at one point the ground under you became slick with something, you weren’t sure what, you didn’t dare look, you slipped and slid and at one point the floor under you fell away and that is what woke you up. That sensation of falling, you jerked away, hand clutched to your chest, face wet once more. Your shaking hands came up to your face and you wiped at your face, pawing at your nearly raw cheeks, the tears wouldn’t stop, you were in nearly a full body sob, still so fucking tired, so fucking scared too. </p><p>When you finally pulled your hands away you looked around the room, confused, unsure of where you were and how you had gotten here, weren’t you making lunch before, and now you were-</p><p>In Vincent’s workshop?</p><p>Your heart was pounding, sweating and shaking you called out again.</p><p>“Vincent?”</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>You sat up a bit, fingers clawing, calling out louder, voice raw,</p><p>“Vincent?!”</p><p>You felt foolish, calling out like this, but you couldn’t be alone right now, you needed comfort, needed him. He was coming downstairs when he heard you calling his name. It made his heart jump in his chest and his breath catch, your tone, you sounded like you were scared, shit, he sped up, you heard him, heavy boot’s thumping down the stairs. </p><p>Hurry, hurry and then he saw you.</p><p>You saw him too, a relief.</p><p>You swallowed hard, thick and nearly painful, shoulders shaking, you reached out with a sniff and said softly again,</p><p>“Vincent…”</p><p>He felt awful. </p><p>You could tell from the look he was curious, you said it quickly, hicupping,</p><p>“Nightmare.”</p><p>Shit.</p><p>He thought you’d be fine on your own for a little bit, he hadn’t been gone that long but it didn’t matter. He strode forward before he even had a chance to think about it, and soon he was on the mattress with you. Reaching out without thinking, hands on your biceps, his hands were so nice.</p><p>Grounding.</p><p>That was the word that came to mind. He was so close to you now, closer than he had ever been. You were still shaking, he pulled you closer into him, he was kneeling on the bed, pulled you into his chest, his sweater felt soft but rough at the same time. Your own hands reached out and curled in the wool, another sniff and a broken sob of his name. You tugged on his sweater and his hands moved, smoothing up your back and you enjoyed the feeling. </p><p>You were breathing so erratically still, trying and failing to rein in how hard you were hyperventilating. You tugged again and he got the hint, you pulled him down to be with you on the bed, he wasn’t used to this much, not every having to be relied on for comfort but you were in need so desperately and seeing you like this was tearing him up so he was going to do his best for you. Sweet and caring, you. </p><p>You were on your back, he was on top of you, hands on either side of you, his weight felt comforting too, your hands still preoccupied in his sweater, holding on for dear life. You were surprised you had any tears left, you looked up at him, pleading, again, his name left you, breathless,</p><p>“Vincent-”</p><p>He loved hearing you say his name but not like this. Not when it was tinged with so much hurt and pain. He reached out and he brushed some of your hair aside out of your eyes, over your forehead, you let out a shuddering breath again and his hand didn’t leave you, maintaining contact with you. </p><p>His hand dragged down, thumb on your cheek, brushing away some of your tears, he leaned down closer and he spoke, something he very rarely did even when you were both alone, hearing his voice made your heart slow as you listened to him shh you softly. </p><p>“S’ okay. M’ here.”</p><p>His voice sounded hoarse from disuse and rough but you weren’t sure you had ever heard anything better. Then he was on his side and pulling you to him, spooning you from behind, his hands on you, stroking affection into your skin, so much of him touching you, one hand on your stomach, smoothing over your shirt, mouth right near your ear, more hushed words of comfort from him to you. He was here. He wasn’t going to go anywhere. You were safe. </p><p>Your breathing calmed, you felt better, and you eventually fell asleep, wrapped up in him. </p><p>True to his word he did not leave you. He stayed right there, holding you.</p><p>And you didn’t have another nightmare that afternoon either.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>